


A Likely Lass

by LadyForestshade



Category: Sunless Sea
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 19:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyForestshade/pseuds/LadyForestshade
Summary: Shore-bound lovers grow lonely, and zee-captains die young, but that won't stop her.





	A Likely Lass

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of the story on my FF.net account.

False stars like crystals shimmered far above on the rocky roof, casting its faint green glow onto the dark waters. Like shattered, distorted glass, the waters sloshed and slapped the side of the small ship that slowly plowed through the waves. I stood by the railing of the main deck, staring out into the darkness overcasting the zee. Only the ship's lights illuminated our path, making the zailors' jobs on deck more imperative to perform without flaw.

Weeks, months, sailing the darkness of the Unterzee is not a job for many. It is wracked with hazards and terror. Nightmares plagued us so often that if not met with a breath of relief, some sight of land or shimmer of light, it would threaten us to descend into madness. Even insanity would be a relief from those terrors. I have heard too many tales of ships falling to murder and captains cannibalizing their crew when supplies have diminished. And perhaps those men met suitable fates, dying by the zee they've committed their hearts to.

We sail the waters close to Hell. Demons rule some parts and even take form the humans that inhabit the Unterzee. I've signed on crew myself that come from those depths. Horrific tales, odd shocking customs, and natives of different lands keep us on edge. I've visited Vendebright, home of Tomb-Colonist, outcast, disgraced.

They are the example and reminder that we do not truly die. What is more of a pressing matter to the inhabitants of the Neath is not the loss of one's life, but perhaps one's soul. Death is a mere inconvenience. We die. We wake up. We live on. Bumbling, empty vessels are the fates of the soulless. It is something I would even wish to preserve.

Self-preservation is the best we can muster, along with scraping by a living in this harsh world. Months prior I've set sail to the Avid Horizons where exiles and criminals etched their names onto the walls, repenting their actions, and begging to come home to London. I make my living going back and forth for the Admirality, collecting information and participating in certain… trade on the side. And like the names of these men I've copied from these walls, they too wish to continue living and return home to London.

Ah, yes, Fallen London. Stolen beneath the waves and down into the Neath thirty years ago, she is the only place that offers us peace from the horrors we witness at zee. Her ports are the only ones we dawdle at the rail to witness over the horizon, the only sight we welcome and trust more than our loved ones. She is the greatest city of the Neath, without a doubt. And for that, we offer her our loyalty.

I pushed away from the railing and split the bread in my hand, throwing over the first half into the zee as a small offering to Salt, then scarfing down the other half, "Madam," A voice calls out and I turn my head quickly with a scorning look. The zailor that called out paused and cleared his throat, "I mean Captain. We've hit home waters. London'll be in sight soon."

With a small smile, I nodded and headed to my quarters to gather my belongings. Within the hour we would soon dock, "Aye, take us home."

* * *

"Steady does it!" excited voices resonated through the ship as I heard boots thumping loudly on the deck, "Release the anchors, we're home!"

I scratched down the last few words in the logbook in front of me and slammed it shut. Hurriedly, I stuffed it inside a worn bag and ran outside to meet the customs guard, "I'll need to search your ship. You know the drill." I simply shrugged and he frowned. I had nothing to hide-aside from a shipment of red honey in a concealed compartment-but carrying on, I allowed him to do his worst. Rudely and loudly, he rummaged through my ship, tossing and kicking crates aside, looking for honey and caskets of souls.

After finding it all clear, much to his disappointment, he finally stepped off the plank and back onto the dock, "You're clear, Captain. Enjoy your time ashore." He said with in a gruff manner.

I nodded my head with a satisfied smirk as I cruised past the guard. My steps on the dock were slow; my crew rushed past whooping and hollering like excited school kids. The streets of London past the Wolfstack Docks bustled with activities. People leisurely walked past, made their way to the University, or the Rose Market deeper into the city. The market opened up not long ago with traders migrating in and out every day or week, willing to pay hefty sums for the simplest goods.

However much it piqued my interest to browse the Rose, I pivoted around and walked against the current of pedestrians. The sidewalks grew less congested as I continued further; I fought less to push past those that kept me from home. The further I walked, however, the more attention I paid to the weight of my pockets. Thieves frequented London just as much as the honest man did. When the sight of my townhouse came into view, I quickened my pace and fumbled through my coat for the keys.

By the time I reached the steps, the keys jingled and dangled from my hand, "I need a nap before walking through the streets," I yawned and pushed open the door, quickly locking it as I entered. I just dropped my bag on the floor of my study and walked with much effort upstairs, "Let's see… visit the Admirality to submit reports, sell honey, sign on new crew… then I can enjoy my evening. It's more exciting at night, aye." I smirked, wondering what harmless troubles I could find myself in this time.

My bedroom welcomed me at the end of the steps when I switched on the lights. Fatigue quickly took over me and my eyelids weighed down heavier and heavier. I removed my boots and jacket, but could no longer muster the strength or effort to remove my blouse. Without changing attire, I just collapsed onto the cold lonely sheets, letting my body drift into a satisfying slumber.

* * *

"I thank you for the detailed reports and the information you've gathered, as usual." The Admirality pushed up his spectacles as he lowered the papers I surrendered with the other hand. His bald head shined faintly in the candlelight, but his aura had a heavy, imposing quality—a man not to be tampered with, "You've done us a good service, Captain. Here's your payment as promised."

"Thank you sir." I watched as he picked up a sack of echoes and handed it over to me. Accepting it, I lowered my head in a polite bow and left.

Departing from the office building, twirling the sack of echoes around a finger, I felt its meager weight. I yearned for much more than this measly sustenance called a paycheck. Was it money? Or perhaps another ambition or desire? I don't know.

And I may never know. I'm far too consumed in this life. Change is risky and I am comfortable with what I receive. The honey from the Isle of Cats, a hub for smugglers from across the map, is what truly weighs my pockets. No smuggler would ever in their right mind go wrong trading something as addictive as red honey. I've taken a gamble one day and risked either a temporary and surreal experience, or a lifelong dependence on this substance. It was glorious, but the ability to search through one's memory at the expense of their pain is what justifies is illegality.

Still one can't simply turn down the profit it makes. What others do with this drug is not my problem. And speaking of profit…

I turned towards the docks and reached my ship, waiting patiently for her next venture out to zee. Within my cabin rested the secret compartment that stowed away the shipment of honey. I looked about, though it was unlikely anyone was present, and quickly stuffed the jar into my bag and departed.

A short walk down the street, the doors of the Brass Embassy welcomed me. Devils and Devilesses made their temporary home within its complex whenever they left Hell for whatever odd reasons—mostly business from what I can comprehend. For the underground world, the soul trade thrived in this place, as well as honey. Any ordinary folk that found themselves in these halls may be conducting the business that I do each month.

The inside is warm, bright, and charming. Civilized and stylishly dressed demons met my gaze as I made my way through. Some smiled, though I hardly perceive it as a welcoming expression, but rather the possibility of a conspiracy to take from me what they do not own. I prayed to keep my soul by the end of this trade. But for now, I continue to be kind and civil until given reason to resort to hostility.

The designated room door opened before I approached, "Captain." The woman at the desk stated without surprise, "How lovely it is to see you."

I was stoic, my mouth just a flat line as I approached and set the jar of honey on her desk. Her gaze left me and eyed the honey hungrily, "Here's another one for you."

She took the jar in one hand and tossed it in the other, eying me, then the door, "I trust there wasn't any trouble?"

"None at all, deviless."

Her smile grew as she reached under her desk and pulled out a hefty sack of coins, "One thousand echoes, as usual. I'll be sure to make good use of this," Now that's more like it. I showed a hint of a smirk and pocketed the pay for my troubles. My hairs stood on end when I realized the deviless mere inches in front of me, leaning over the desk, "Must be such a weary journey to get this honey…"

The deviless' finger traced lines at the top of my chest. I held my breath and tilted my face away to avoid the gaze of red yes, "What are you doing?"

She continued, as if not hearing me, "I'm sure you'd like some relief, Captain." I shivered and my hairs stood on end as she took hold of my tie and pulled me close. I gulped and suddenly jerked back, tailing quickly out of the room. Laughter, like a prank well executed, echoed down the halls.

* * *

I sighed heavily as I kicked up dust on the street. The echoes were safe in my townhouse and the evening approached. It was time for a night of respite at the closest tavern available. I rubbed the back of my neck and felt it burning from my earlier encounter. It frightened me so, that I thought I may have lost my soul had I not escaped the room when I did.

That wasn't the reason my neck burned and my face flushed brightly red. Maybe soon I could have an excuse. Intoxication would flush my skin so no one would dare suggest someone managed to fluster me. The bar, as I entered, was filled zailors and employees of the Admirality as patrons. Conversations mixed in a cacophony as nobody paid any mind to those outside their circle.

I approached the bar alone and took my seat, ordering my usual. My eyes scanned left and right, somehow hoping to see a recognizable face. No one. I sighed and my thoughts instantly went back to my encounter with the deviless. It wasn't her actions that caused me to descend into this flustered state. Rather, it… awakened something else.

When I left the Admirality with my pay, I desired something more. I received more once I received compensation from the deviless, but still, it did not satisfy me. Had the deviless not been a soul feeding creature and I did not fear for what I possess, I may have accepted her proposition.

Just a few drinks in, a woman approached me. Simple, long brown hair fell behind her shoulders and brown eyes locked onto mine. It was difficult to tell through those full lips if she smiled or not… From her steps, it was easy to tell some alcohol coursed through her body, but not enough to render her unaware of her actions. She took a seat next to me at the bar, setting down her mug, "Good evening to you…"

The drawl of her voice seemed inquisitive, prying for an answer, a response from me. I couldn't help but smirk, "Cerys Findlay," I tilted my head to match her gaze, "But you can call me captain."

She charmingly giggled, "Alright captain," she propped her chin on the palm of her hand, "then you can call me a spy." She tipsily proclaimed.

I lifted a brow and smirked, "Oh really? A spy?" It was hard to tell if her proclamation held some truth. And a spy for who I wonder.

Whatever she is, she's easy to like. From that mysterious smile to that charming laugh, I found myself enthralled in her work stories and she listened to mine. The Likely Lass and I found ourselves sharing a bigger table as I ordered us dishes prepared from the catches of the zee. We abandoned the intoxicating drinks and she sobered as we talked late into the night.

When the evening ends… we're still together. The night was too wonderful to end by parting hands at the front of the closing tavern, so I took her home. There, we collapsed into each other's embrace, sharing passionate kisses. Lights, laughter, the warmth of skin pressed against skin, I know I will never forget this.

What I felt was missing before was suddenly here as I witnessed the sight of her hair pooled around her shoulders in a beautiful mess. I gazed at her below me almost drunkenly as the Likely Lass pulled me closer. Her lips approached my ear, "Captain, I never told you my name have I? My name is…" Her hushed whisper tickled my ear as I dedicated her name to memory. Then we once again became lost in our passion.

In the morning, my heart fell to see her gone. With how little I knew her, I already missed her presence. Not even seconds later, her bare figure appeared in my bedroom as she was never gone to begin with. We were still together as we wasted the morning away in blissful company. The days and weeks were well spent afterwards. When the day that the zee beckoned me to sail its waters once again, I steeled my heart the closer I approached the waiting ship.

Trouble, and romance. I turned around to see Fallen London's lights illuminating the darkness of the Neath. The maritime lords of this hellish world would determine if I should see these lights again. And the Likely Lass… The Likely Lass! She approached the Wolfstack Docks, nearing the end of the cobblestone steps, clad in a dark longcoat and warm scarf.

She must have noticed me as she made a path in my direction. I hid my hands in my pockets, timid for some odd reason, "Hello there, luv." I greeted warmly.

Approaching she gave that half-smile, "Don't think I came to the docks just to see you. I have business here."

I chuckled and tucked a stray hair back behind her ear, "Of course you didn't. That's why you beelined straight towards me, right?"

She placed a soft hand on my arm and looked up at me, then reluctantly down, "Alright, it did cross my mind that I should drop by," the Likely Lass peered at my ship and back to me, tilting her head towards the darkness of the zee beyond, "Where to now, captain?"

I sighed and stepped aside so we can both stare out into the dark horizon. Only the faintest light of a buoy floating lazily in the waves showed out there. I pointed in the general direction to guide her eyes, "Gaider's Mourn. It's not a long trip this time. I should return in maybe two or three more weeks." We face each other once more, "Maybe I'll see you again once I return?"

"Of course," she nodded and, with a sigh, rummaged through her purse. In her hand she held a pewter locket. As I reach for the gift, she briefly grips it in her fist, "Don't you dare forget me." She said, then freed the locket for me to take. It's warm just from the brief period she held it.

"I wouldn't dare forget you…" I embraced her, not caring my zailors could witness my moment of softness. My entire being desired her presence. A weight crushed my heart as I felt slender arms wrap around my waist. Soon the horn for the ship's departure sounded and we reluctantly parted. I kissed her, then took her hand in mine to place another kiss upon it, "Until next time."

"Until next time." She gripped my hand tightly, reassuringly, before I left.

The Likely Lass watched from the Wolfstack Docks as I departed, one hand to her chest, while the other waved in farewell. I watched until the lights were nothing but a faint glow on the horizon and the crew ambled about. The ship plowed through the waves sluggishly and the darkness consumed us in its familiar embrace. Our own light carved our path and I stood by the front railing, her locket in my hand.

Opening it, her portrait stared at me, "She never quite smiles…" My mind debated whether to throw it to the zee and forget her name, or keep it.

I closed my hand around the locket. The zee-air is cold, but the heat of my hand warmed the metal of the locket. I'll keep this close. It's a risk for both of us. Shore-bound lovers grow lonely, and zee-captains die young. But I will see her again.


End file.
